


Blue

by bashfulmoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Baby klance, CHKLcontest, Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Musician Keith (Voltron), a lil angst, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashfulmoon/pseuds/bashfulmoon
Summary: Lance and Keith are childhood friends and Lance gets a new guitar for Christmas. Lance runs away from home for a couple hours because he can't wait to show Keith and they write a little song.By the way this is an entry for @/comehomeklance's contest (on instagram) so I would recommend reading that either before or after this. It's a really great comic 10/10 recommend. But also since this is a short one shot for a comic that isn't my own, I don't know where the creators are gonna take the comic these are just my own headcannons, so if it turns out that some things in here don't match up with the comic I'm sorry my dudes.





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Come Home](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/455906) by comehomeklance. 



> Disclaimer: I don't speak spanish but I couldn't have Lance just be some regular old white boy (in the best way possible ofc) so I tried my best and asked some people who speak spanish to help me but if something is wrong please comment and I will fix it! Also this isn't very well written or edited but this is mainly just for fun. Anyway have a great time!

Lance had been up since 4 in the morning, waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for the familiar smell of Mamá cooking Christmas breakfast, waiting for her voice to echo throughout their quaint house in the suburbs of San Francisco. As soon as Mamá yelled “Marco, Luis, Lance, Veronica!”, Lance climbed down from his top bunk, shook Luis awake who was still sleeping like a baby on the bottom bunk, and ran out to their joint kitchen/ dining room.  


“First as always. Feliz Navidad, mijo,” Mamá smiled sweetly up to her son. Lance was the youngest of his siblings, but even at just ten years old, he was already as tall as his oldest brother Marco. Her smile suddenly dropped, and she whipped his arm with the dish towel she had in hand, and said, “Now go wake your siblings. They’re taking too long.”  


Lance saluted her and ran into his and Luis’ shared room, Marcos’ room, and Veronica’s room and pushed each of them out into the living room and onto the couch in front of their oddly decorated Christmas tree. Every year their family handmade ornaments for the house, depending on that year’s chosen theme. This year Marco had gotten to choose, so the entire house was covered roof to floor in “vinyls” made from cardboard, hand-drawn posters of everyone’s favorite bands, and cutouts of music notes and microphones. The rule was that, whatever it was, everyone had to get at least one present related to the theme. Sometimes that rule worked out great, usually especially for the one who chose the theme. More often than not, it wasn’t exactly fun for everyone else. Especially when Veronica had chosen glitter as the theme when she was eight. It took five complete cleanings of the house to get all the glitter out from all the rugs and furniture and everyone’s clothes.  


Lance was hoping he would get a good gift this year. Lance liked music too; he liked basically everything that Marco liked. Marco always had to bring Lance with him wherever he went because that was his “responsibility as the oldest sibling in the house,” but Marco didn’t really mind all too much. Lance could be talkative, but he always tried his best to not annoy Marco and do everything Marco said. Marco was Lance’s hero, and they shared everything except a room.  


Lance, Luis, Veronica, and Marco carefully watched Mamá’s every move. They were all still, waiting for Mamá’s word to open their presents. As soon as Mamá sat down and said, “Niños, van,” everyone ran from their seats to the presents under the tree, checking each one for names and tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal their gifts. Lance checked each of the small presents, confused when he didn’t see any with his name. Did Mamá forget to get him any gifts? Did he upset Mamá in some way or did he ask for too much during the year?  


Lance slowly walked back to the couch without any presents in hand. No one noticed the tears bubbling up in his eyes as he watched them all exclaim about their new record players or tickets to some local band performance.  


Luis voice suddenly popped up above the rest, “Look guys! There's one more tucked behind the tree. And it’s huge!”  


Lance’s ears perked, but he forced his hopes to submerge. There was no way he would get the biggest present. He just had to accept that he didn’t deserve a present this year. There was no point in crying about it. If he whined, he probably wouldn’t get a present next year either.  


Marco pulled it out from behind the tree. “Lance, don’t you wanna see what you got for Christmas?”  


Lance slowly looked up to the long, trapezoidal box Marco was carrying. “Wh- what do you mean?” Lance asked, his voice giving away his sad disposition. “I didn’t, I didn’t get any presents this year.”  


“Then why does this one say ‘Lance’?”  


Lance raised from his seat again and cautiously walked over to Marco. “Really? Cause if this is a joke I don’t care.”  


“Hermanito, trust me. This is actually yours.”  


Lance took the box, almost too heavy for him to hold, and went back to the couch again to unwrap it. Sure enough, his name was written on the top in Mamá’s loopy handwriting. Tearing off the paper as quick as possible, Lance gazed in amazement when he saw his gift.  


Sounds of disbelief chorused from Luis and Veronica, but Marco didn’t seem surprised and just clapped Lance on the shoulder. Marco bent down and whispered to Lance, “I pitched in to help Mamá so you don’t have to keep borrowing my guitar.”  


Lance looked up at his brother with more awe than he had for the guitar. They stayed like that for a couple seconds, Lance still in complete disbelief that he had gotten a gift, especially one in part from Marco, before Lance sprung up and threw his arms around his brother. “Gracias mi hermano mayor, gracias,” Lance graciously expressed, almost crying but for a different reason this time. Lance couldn’t wait to show his best friend his new guitar; he could barely sit still, restlessness swelling up in his chest.  


Veronica’s stomach grumbled loudly, and everyone laughed. “Mamá… can we eat breakfast now? Por favor?” Veronica whined.  


Mamá pretended to think for a while before joining the laughter, “Of course, mija.”  


Almost as quickly as they had rushed to open their presents, everyone made their way to the kitchen, Luis setting the table, Veronica filling up everyone’s cup with milk (or coffee for Mamá since she had been awake wrapping presents and cooking breakfast since before sunrise), and Lance helping Marco serve the large meal of eggs, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, and warm tortillas.  


Breakfast went by in a blur for Lance, stuffing his face with as much food in as little amount of time as he could. He had decided he would probably die if he didn’t rush to his best friend’s house right away. Hastily, Lance stood up and ran over to the sink with his dirty dishes, washing them quickly and leaving them to dry.  


“Mamá, Mamá, te quiero pase lo que pase, Mamá…” Lance cooed, his arms wrapped around Mamá’s shoulders.  


“¿Que es, mi hijo?” Mamá asked, knowing he wanted something.  


Lance hugged Mamá tighter. “Can I go over to Keith’s, por favor?”  


Mamá just shook her head. “No, mijo. Abuelita is coming over soon and you must be here to greet her.”  


“Pretty please Mami? Just for a little bit?”  


“No,” Mamá said more firmly. “Now go clean up your room or else I’ll take away your new guitar.”  


Lance sighed loudly and started toward his room.  


“¡Hey, mi hijo!” Mamá called suddenly.  


“¿Qué Mamá?” Lance stopped reluctantly. What else could his mamá ruin for him today?  


Mamá just tapped her cheek twice. Lance looked up, secretly wishing for some alien ship to show up and whisk him away to space, before walking back over to his mamá and kissing her cheek. “Te quiero, Mami,” Lance said unenthusiastically.  


“Lo sé, Lancito,” Mamá stared at her beautiful boy for a couple seconds. “Now hurry to your room.”  


“Sí Mami, you don’t have to rush me.” Lance turned towards his room again, picking up his new guitar from the couch on his way.  


While cleaning, Lance kept thinking about Keith’s reaction when he would see Lance’s new guitar. Lance couldn’t wait. He knew Abuelita was coming, but Abuelita came all the time. Who knows when Lance would get to see Keith before school started again.  


Lance looked out his window, sighing. Keith only lived a five-minute run away. Lance could be there and back before Mami ever knew. He looked at his door then out his window again.  


Lance nodded and opened his window very slowly so he wouldn’t make too much noise. “Lo siento, Mami,” Lance muttered, sitting on the edge of his window. He grabbed his guitar and jumped out into the snow. Lance shuddered from the sudden coldness, but it didn’t matter. All he wanted was to show Keith his new guitar. He started running down the block, guitar strapped to his back. The sweat dripping down his face was unnoticeable with the brisk wind freezing and swiping it off almost immediately.  


Lance got to Keith’s front door in four minutes; he had timed himself. He wanted to join the track team once he and Keith got to middle school, so Lance trained all the time. Panting slightly, Lance rung the doorbell. He really hoped it was either Keith or Krolia to answer because Shiro was a big snitch and would probably call his mamá right away.  


The door opened to reveal a slightly confused Keith who quickly turned into a highly concerned Keith. “What are you doing here? And why aren’t you wearing shoes?”  


Lance looked down at his own feet. Sure enough, he wasn’t wearing any shoes, just some very damp socks, wet from the snow. Lance laughed, looking back up at Keith. “Yeah, I guess I was just so excited to show you my Christmas gift.”  


Keith shook his head, nailing the disappointed-mom-look for only being 10 years old. “Lance, go home.”  


Lance’s face dropped immediately, his breath inexplicably getting caught in his chest for a second before he managed to choke out, “What? But I just got here. I thought we could have some fun. Don’t you want to hang out?”  


“Does your mom even know you’re here? You could get into serious trouble if she finds out you left,” Keith expressed.  


Lance’s brows furrowed. “When did you get to be a snitch like Shiro? I thought you would be happy to see me, but I guess not.” He sighed, eyes falling. Tears were trying to well up in his eyes for the umpteenth time today. Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be a time of joy?  


Keith was taken aback. He didn’t realize his words would affect Lance so much. He said all that for Lance’s own good; if Lance got in trouble, they wouldn’t be allowed to hang out anymore. Keith sighed and grabbed Lance’s arm, pulling him into the house. “You’ll get sick if you stand out there any longer, dressed the way you are,” Keith grunted, trying to make up for being a bad friend.  


Lance sniffled quietly, whether from the the tears or an onsetting cold, and tried to put some pep back into his step. As soon as the two got to Keith’s room, Lance pulled out his guitar and held it out in front of him like it was Simba in The Lion King. “Ta-daaa,” Lance sang, his usual grin crossing his face again.  


Keith’s eyes went wide. “Is that really yours? Like not Marco’s?” he asked in disbelief.  


Lance nodded excitedly.  


“What are you gonna name it?” Keith questioned.  


“I have to name it?”  


“Duh,” Keith giggled like it was obvious.  


“Hm…” Lance thought. “I don’t know. Why don’t you name her? And she can be both of ours,” he proclaimed proudly.  


Keith stared at Lance, surprised by the sudden gesture. He almost thought that at any moment Lance would say he was just kidding and walk away. But no. Lance wasn’t like Keith’s father. Lance’s sparkling blue eyes were trusting and exuded security, unlike Keith’s father’s broken brown eyes that couldn’t do anything good. “Blue,” Keith spurted.  


Lance looked at Keith then to his guitar, nodding. “You’re right. I don’t know how I didn’t think of it before.” Lance’s smiled grew wider. “Well, Blue, from now on you are the proud daughter of me, Lance McClain, and my best friend forever and ever, Keith Kogane.”  


At that, Keith’s cheeks started to feel warm. He had never been someone’s best friend. Lance started to look around Keith’s room, seeming unsatisfied.  


“What are you looking for?” Keith asked.  


“Hm….” Lance hummed before exclaiming, “Aha!” He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling a few things down very quickly before handing it to Keith.  
It read:

“Date of birth: 12/25/2010  
Full Name: Blue Kogane-McClain  
Custody: Lives with father #1 aka Lance cause I’m the best ;) but father #2 aka Keith can take care of her whenever he wants  
Lance McClain  
Father #1 ”

Keith laughed and looked up at Lance. “What is this?”  
“What do you mean ‘what is this,’” Lance mocked. “It’s Blue’s birth certificate, obviously!  
Now you have to sign it or else it won’t be official.”  
Laughing again, Keith rolled his eyes and took the pen from Lance. “Alright. For you, I guess.”  
Now it read:

“Date of birth: 12/25/2010  
Full Name: Blue Kogane-McClain (Why is my last name first?)  
Custody: Lives with father #1 aka Lance cause I’m the best ;) (sure you are) but father #2 aka Keith ( :( ) can take care of her whenever he wants  
Lance McClain Keith Kogane  
Father #1 Should-be Father #1 ”

After signing it, Keith handed it back to Lance, who was still smiling. Did he ever stop? Lance put the certificate in his guitar case carefully before running over to Keith’s bed with his guitar. Keith sat down at his desk, listening to the chords Lance played. Although Lance only knew a few chords and a couple melodies here and there, Keith always enjoyed listening to him play. Even if he had heard it a million times before, it always changed depending on how Lance was feeling. Whenever Lance played music, it was like a gateway into his heart, and Keith always appreciated that because Keith wasn’t always great at reading emotions, but he could understand music. Today Lance sounded happy, but it had a background of sadness and disappointment.  


Absentmindedly, Keith started humming along which eventually turned into his whispering of a few lyrics he wrote in his free time. Of course, Keith had never told anyone about his little hobby, not even Lance. Especially not Lance. Lance was so sporty and perfect; he would probably think songwriting was for girls. But when Keith looked up, he noticed that Lance was staring at him with his wide blue eyes, and then he realized that he had been singing along.  


_Oh no, oh no. Was Lance gonna leave? He probably didn’t want to be associated with some girly boy who wrote songs instead of playing basketball or something._  


Keith covered his mouth quickly and silently started to pray to whatever god would listen.  


Instead, Lance’s jaw dropped as he stared at Keith in awe. “Aw man, why didn’t you ever tell me you sang? You’re so good. You should become a pop star! I could be your manager or even your guitarist, but I’m not really that good so you’d probably want someone better. But it’d be so cool! You could be famous and I could join you on tour and we could meet Beyonce!” Lance rambled, making Keith blush again. Keith wondered why he had ever doubted Lance. It was hard for Keith to believe that someone he loved would actually stay in his life, but every time, Lance proved to Keith that he was there to stay.  


“Come on, Keith! We should write a song together right now. And then when you become famous, you can sing this on tour and everyone will love it and you’ll get standing ovations, but only we’ll know that we wrote it together, kay? It can be like our friendship pact. As long as we remember the song, we’ll always be friends.” Lance shook restlessly, grinning with wide eyes.  


Keith laughed and nodded his head. They spent the next couple hours, trying out different melodies and lyrics to go with them. Lance forgot all about his mamá and abuelita, and Keith let go all of his worries about Lance ever leaving or judging him. Keith wrote down the lyrics as the went along, crossing out ones that didn’t work and changing some words to fit the melody better. Eventually, the doorbell rang and the two boys were snapped back to reality. Mamá came in and dragged Lance out by his ear, yelling at him for running away without telling her and for not even bothering to wear a coat or shoes while doing it.  


Keith was no stranger to Lance’s mamá’s ways and just ran outside to shout his goodbyes to them. He went back to his room and looked over the lyrics in his notebook again, Lance’s melodies replaying in his mind.

“I got these memories, black masked  
them yelling at me, me shouting back  
The crows are circling above now  
About time for them to dive down

Blood stains, carpet floor  
Lifeless, gone, ain't here no more  
I see them staring, I'm a show  
Piercing, taking bits of my soul 

No, it ain't easy  
Ain't blissful  
A long road  
not impossible

Kept my head down  
Didn't look up  
'Till someone tipped my chin up

Said you got this cage full of Memories  
Pill bottles of ecstasy  
Continued walking blindly  
Without ever knowing

You gotta look to the skies  
And shine bright  
Don't worry bout it  
Tonight

And lock those thoughts  
Where they belong  
Sung to sleep  
Under siren's song 

We're low on money, patience  
Scraping by just to pay rent  
Black cats running in front of us  
Ain't worried, we don't have time enough

We got jobs to do, shoes to fill  
Dads on his monthly run from paying bills  
Too many webs in mirrors  
To last us a whole life of fear

No, it ain't easy  
Ain't blissful  
A long road  
not impossible

Kept my head down  
Didn't look up  
'Till someone tipped my chin up

Said you got this cage full of Memories  
Pill bottles of ecstasy  
Continued walking blindly  
Without ever knowing

You gotta look to the skies  
And shine bright  
Don't worry bout it  
Tonight

And lock those thoughts  
Where they belong  
Sung to sleep  
Under siren's song  
Under siren’s song  
Now we’re sung to sleep after fighting so long”

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it for my first publsihed fic. I have a few that I've written or am working on. Should I post them too? I don't really think of myself as a good writer but it is a passion of mine so I'm trying. Also yeah the song at the end is one of my own. I highkey don't like it but I don't really write songs that would fit the vibe of ten year old Keith. Maybe older angsty heartbroken keith. I had two songs of mine in mind for the song I would include at the end, either the one I did which is kinda like Keith being all angsty and lance being his shining light, or another one that's all about coming home (which is what @/comehomeklance's comic is all about (and literally named) I chose the one I felt was better even though I feel self conscious about both of them but I guess if y'all are interested I could publish the other song I was thinking about? Maybe? I don't even know if this fic will be read by anyone but if it is I guess I'll let y'all decide. Peace out y'all and make sure to go read @/comehomeklance's comic and enter in their contest if you want! They've got some really rad prizes for the winners. Again stay cool enough 4 skool kiddos


End file.
